When The Worlds Collide
by Shah112
Summary: Dean Winchester and his younger brother, the hunters of dark creatures, are set out on a journey to search for their father. Joyce Cooper, the witch with a wand, has been turning every stone in her path to help her sister out. What will happen when their paths cross? Keep reading and find out for yourself. Rated T (Can be changed later)


**AUTHOR'S NOTE:-**

 **Hey, lovelies :) How is everyone doing? I am back again with another story. Yeah, I know I have two unfinished ones that I haven't updated. I am so sorry for that. Things have been going crazy and life has turned into nothing less than a roller-coaster. But I'll try to update them as soon as I can. I have just lost interest in many things I used to love.**

 **So, I guess I am back again with another idea. I haven't thought much about how I am going to proceed this story but I'll figure out.**

 **-The Silent Pray-**

Pale hands put together in a gesture of praying trembled lightly. Fresh, hot tears streaming down from her coal-black, doe eyes left stains on her faintly pink cheeks.

"Please...," her low, brittle voice cracked as a sob fell from her thin lips.

Quickly both her hands were over her mouth to smother the sobs that if left unattended, would disrupt the quietness filling the empty church.

"Save her," she, at last, managed a desperate, low yet coherent plead. Her knuckles turned almost white while forcefully seizing the wooden bench she was seated on. "She doesn't deserve this," she shook her head rapidly. 'None of us..."

Words instantly died at the tip of her tongue, her parted lips closed. The quiet creak of the church's doors had reached her ears announcing that she was about to get interrupted. The sound of light footsteps reverberating through the dead silence caused her to harshly scrub her face with the help of her sleeve. She kept on rubbing her slightly swollen eyes with her knuckles in an effort to wipe off all traces of her pathetic weak state, all hints of her crying.

"Joyce," a small, soft, pale hand settled gently on her shoulder to steer her attention backward.

Joyce Cooper hastily pushed back the damp, stray scarlet locks clinging to her forehead and face. She inhaled deeply and released her breath slowly before twisting her body around.

The corners of her mouth quirked upwards at the sight of six-year-old chubby-faced girl standing behind her, a bright smile plastered on the small lips.

The little girl's smile faltered. Her eyebrows came together removing the little distance they had. Her lips pursed as a look of utter confusion marred her face. Then a look of realization dawned on her pretty features, that weren't different from Joyce's, followed by a purely offended expression.

"You were crying." It wasn't a question. The little girl's tone was accusing.

"No, I wasn't, April." She denied it openly, her statement pursued by a fake smile, a shield that she had been using lately to mask her pain.

April's hazel-brown eyes exactly like hers scanned her face for a protracted moment. Joyce's face stretched into another believable smile as she patted April's head that was covered with long silky blonde hairs. The blonde hair was the only part that she hadn't inherited from Joyce. They were shiny, purely golden like brightest rays of sunshine just like her mother's.

April opened her mouth to say something but Joyce spoke before her. "Do you want to go meet Emerald?"

A look of pure terror darkened the small girl's cute face.

"No." The response was almost instant as April shook her head vigorously causing the mass of blonde hairs to sway sideways. "I don't want to see mommy." The little girl spoke, eyes now looking down at her small shoes. She was clearly ashamed of her confession. "Mommy scares me." The justification of her actions was given the next moment.

Joyce quickly encircled her petite arms around April's small frame. April's shaking hands tightly gripped her shirt's back.

"Everything will be alright, April." She assured, making soothing circles on little girl's back. "Your mum will get better in no time. I promise."

...

"It was Allan Edgar Poe, Dean. Not Albert Eddie Poe..." Sam Winchester whirled around in his seat, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips as his hazel-brown, now narrowed eyes shifted from the windshield of the Impala to his brother who now had a broad, teasing grin on his face. Idiot…

"Whatever, Stanford boy..." Dean Winchester's indifferent shrug earned an exaggerated eye-roll from Sam.

Since Sam had left Stanford and joined his brother on the endless journey to eliminate the dangerous creatures of the night, Dean had never missed an opportunity to tease Sam about his old life.

Sam tried not to groan because that small sound would add smugness to Dean's immensely satisfied expression.

After a brief pause, Sam audibly cleared his throat. "So, Lake Manitoc… what do you could be the reason behind the disappearances?" He didn't bother looking at Dean, gazing out of the rolled down the window.

"Could be anything from a vengeful spirit to a Loch Ness monster…" Dean replied carelessly, shoving a metallic tape into the music player and turned the volume up.

...

The wooden door opened after multiple knocks.

"Hey, Greta," Joyce greeted the olive-skinned woman in her late thirties with a classically beautiful face that was full of strength and wavy dark brown hairs that were arranged in a neat bun. Her satin, purple-colored cloak screamed: 'expensive'.

"Hey, Joyce…" The woman greeted back with a warm, gentle smile causing creases to form around her twinkling chocolate-brown eyes. "Hey, April... How are you?" Greta stooped down to little girl's level and pinched her cheeks.

"I am good," April smiled widely, her hand finding Joyce's and she seized it firmly in her small hand.

"Come on in," Greta invited the two inside.

Greta stepped aside, allowing the two visitors to walk into her house. Greta's hand slipped inside the cloak and she pulled out a wand tucked in the waistband of her black-colored trousers. With a careless flick, followed by the faint sound of the click of the door, the witch locked the door.

...

"Evening…"

The elder woman with a deeply etched face full of compassion and long silvery hair arranged in a neat bun greeted Joyce.

Joyce responded with a silent nod and a quick smile, following her towards the end of the room where a bed was placed at a good distance from others surrounded by the curtains.

"Is there any improvement?" Joyce sounded desperate, eyes hopefully staring at the silver-haired woman.

The woman simply shook her head. "I am sorry. We did everything we could. But Emerald's condition…we aren't sure if it's some curse gone wrong, some mental trauma…whatever it is, until we know the reason, figuring the solution out is impossible, dear."

The healer pushed the curtain aside, stepping in. Joyce followed close behind.

"Oh, little sister is here."

Joyce hated the teasing tone of that voice. Joyce stared down at her feet, scared of looking up, dreading the moment when her hazel-brown eyes would meet her sister's eyes.

Finally plucking the courage up, her gaze slowly dragged upwards and for a second hope ignited in her heart when ocean blue eyes stared back at her.

But then Emerald blink and warmth of the ocean blue orbs was replaced with the coldness of monstrous black. There was no pale white. Just darkness…

A mad cackle brushed past Emerald's lips and shivers rolled down Joyce's spine.

...

 **A/N:-**

 **Feel free to give any suggestions or ideas through your reviews or you can even PM me:) I would love to hear what you guys think.**

 **Tell me how I can improve and if you have any ideas, suggestions feel free to share. Constructive criticism is always welcomed. Any questions you guys have feel free to ask.**

…


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